Cube
by I-am-The-Mathgoth
Summary: Katrina partially solves the cube at the request of her boyfriend. As a result, she experiences the Cenobite's unique brand of punishment.


_(Seriously, we don't have enough of these Hellraiser fanfics. I wrote this one at 3 am, and I liked how it turned out. )_

**Chapter one: The Cube**

"So whacha got?"

I set my backpack down and sank into the understuffed, nasty yellow couch. A cloud of dust flew up into the air around me and settled on my sweatshirt. I gently brushed myself off.

"Almost…" he said distracted, twirling a wooden cube between his hands carefully. The yellow bulb from above us shone on its facets, and they gleamed with yellow brass. He'd been working on that thing for days.

"If you would just let me open it…"

"No." he sighed and put it back down on the table, for the millionth time since he had gotten a hold of it.

I watched his run a hand through his now greasy hair and take a particularly long drag on his cigarette. His dark lipstick was smeared over my cheek, a result of his wiping his hand over his mouth in frustration.

"Admit defeat," I told him gravely, "and give it up. Come to class with me. Please."

I will open this," he said, "I swear to you it moved yesterday and I will open this stupid thing. Even if I have to die trying."

It had been consuming his life for three full days. He has barely eaten, and hasn't gotten off the couch for class, or even a shower. As his best friend, I was willing to overlook his disgusting behavior, but I had my limit.

"Babe," I said, "you stink. You look like hell. Go shower. Go eat. Go take a fuckin nap. I'll make you soup. If you don't, I'm going to set it, and you, on fire. Now."

He sighed again, and with a longing glance at the puzzle box, he stood and stretched. His dark hair rippled as he shook his head. He scratched his face with chipped black nail polish and finally stumbled off to do something productive with himself, leaving me with the cube. Naturally, the second he's gone, I decide to fuck with it.

I turn it in my hands. It's warm, and I feel a slight vibration of whirring gears and moving parts somewhere inside. I hear a facet turn on in the bowels of the apartment. I tap my fingers against the corners. Nothing. Each side a design, something complicated and mysterious. Squares and circles, with tiny faces, or hands, or useless blobs of brass against the lacquered wood. It was a very pretty puzzle, and I could see how he'd gotten obsessed with it.

Half an hour later, he strolls back into the living room, just as I discover a hidden switch. Jamming my thumbs forecully into one fo the circles on the side, the box moved. The top lifts, moves back and forth, and returns to its original shape. Music, muffled, begins to play softly. A cute, fable-like little tune.

"What the fuck!" he grabs the box from me and stares at it.

"That wasn't hard at all," I said, "took me, what, half an hour?"

"Do you even know what this is?"

"Yes," I said angrily, "you told me. Demons from hell. Ultimate power. Blah blah blah bullshit and all that."

He pauses and stares at the cube again. Its playing the same melody over and over again.

"Finish it for me."

"Excuse me?"

"I want you, to finish this for me. Please."

"Only if I get a nice cut of demonic power. You greedy bastard." He laughs at me and tosses it into my hands. I had solved a Rubik's Cube once, though it had taken me the better part of the week. This didn't seem nearly s difficult, with only a push or pull to worry about. I didn't even know what I was supposed to be creating from it.

"What's it supposed to do?"

"Open. You have to keep trigging it till the top opens."

"Oh," I turn it over and sit down. He sits next to me and watches my hands. "Is there something inside or is this just one of those 'good for you' deals?"

"Door to hell, duh."

He'd always been a fan of the occult. Dabbling here and there in some harmless Satanic practices, "magick" with a "k", double double toil and trouble kind of stuff. This cube was just the latest in a series of failed experiments and spells to procure some form of mystical power.

The music played on. I even began to form lyrics for it. "Fuck this thing," I sang softly and I twisted it, "fuck the world, fuck this cube, and fuck you too."

It took over an hour, but finally, I triggered the very last piece. I ran my finger over the larger circle, clicking each tiny button around the perimeter, and the music stopped. The top lifted up again, this time in a flowered pattern, and twisted itself into a 90 degree pattern, and then settled back down. The circle in the middle opened.

"Score," I said, placing the cube down on the table. I didn't notice Conan stand up and back away from me. I didn't even notice the windows going dark. I just sat back on that miserable couch and sighed.

I did, however, notice the sudden white light flowing in through all the doorways and windows. I jumped to my feet at the walls shook themselves.

_What the heck is this? Earthquake? Tsunami? Tor-fuckin-nado?_ I dove under the table and covered my head with my hands.

Then the shaking stopped. I sat gasping under the table.

"…Katrina?" Came his voice from somewhere in the room.

"Conan? What the hell was that?" I didn't get to hear his answer, as that second, I was suddenly pulled out from under the table by an unseen hand, and dragged out into the open, screeching.

The thing that pulled me out was the moist horrifying thing I'd even seen up close and personal on my entire 20 years on earth. I was staring into the face of a creature with no eyes or nose, and a mouth that consisted of only two rows of white, chattering teeth. Since I was on my back, I had to cover my mouth with my hands to keep from puking and drowning in it. But not before I screamed so loud I heard only the static of it in my head.

It pulled me roughly to my feet, grabbing at hair and skin violently. Twisted my head forward and pinning my arms to my side, I could only hyperventilate, and stared at Conan, who stood some 5 feet away, transfixed by the sight at his kitchen doorway.

More figures had glided into the room, accompanied by the sound of clanking chains and the almost inaudible swish of leather. One of them, a tall figure with white skin, moved forward until it was looking at Conan in the eyes. I felt my knees give out temporarily, and the thing holding me up dug its fingers into my shoulders harshly. I whimpered.

"Finally," I heard Conan say almost tearfully. He was gasping. "My lord, I offer a sacrifice. In the name of Leviathan." The tall figure turned it head to me.

"You offer us the flesh of this girl, in exchange for yours?" It spoke in a deep, raspy voice. I winced as the thing twirled it fingers in my hair and pulled.

"No," said Conan breathlessly, "for power. For initiation."

I noticed that the figure had nails hammered into his skull. I would have screamed again but the creature holding my head suddenly stuffed his fingers into my mouth as soon as I inhaled and I choked.

"Mpph," I said uselessly.

"What makes you think we want her over you?" said a different voice. Another of them was standing somewhere behind the taller figure, a female by the looks of her gentle curves. She was bleeding from her neck. It flowed like a river over her black dress.

"I…I will bring you more," said Conan. He was shaking now. In a second, I guessed he pass out.

"We come for those who open the box," said the taller figure, "and we do not make deals."

"She did open the box," Conan said quickly. Suddenly understanding, I managed to pull the creatures fingers from my mouth with my free hand and scream.

"I didn't mean to! Conan!" The taller figure moved away from Conan, and both he and the female walked towards me slowly. The thing holding me down also moved back. I had to hold onto the table to keep from falling.

"You opened it," said the female.

"And we came." Finished the male. Extending a hand outwards, he placed it on my chest. I saw with horror that I suddenly blossomed five streams of blood on my shirt. It wasn't until he pulled his hand away that I noticed the hooks on the ends of his fingertips.

I had been fish-hooked once in my life when I was eight and had gone on a family camping trip. I cried for three hours while my dad carefully worked the hook from my hand. The pain had been unfathomable to my young mind. But it was no comparison to the five I had just received. I grasped at my chest and back into the wall.

"I am going to kill you, Conan Crane!" I screamed at him, "I am going to tear you apart with my bare hands you vicious little pig!"

The other creatures laughed at this. Conan back away from them, towards the doorway out of the living room. My chest felt as though it was on fire.

It only took a fraction of a second to happen, and I almost missed it. The taller male jerked his head towards Conan, and from nowhere, a dozen chains flew from the ceiling and suddenly, Conan was writhing suspended in midair with a dozen hooks pulling his skin in every direction. I couldn't help it, I turned and vomited onto the floor, both from pain and horror.

"We do not make deals," he said again, "and we come for the desire." He turned to me and I shut my eyes. The last I heard was the clanking of chains in my ears and then nothing.


End file.
